Lauren O'Neal is an MFA student at San Francisco State University. Her writing has appeared in publications like Slate, The New Inquiry, and The Hairpin. You can follow her on Twitter at @laureneoneal.
A whole raft of writers, from Margaret Atwood to Arundhati Roy to Orhan Pamuk, have joined forces to take a stand against mass surveillance in the digital age. A petition…
You may have seen the recent series of UN Women ads using screenshots of Google auto-complete suggestions to educate viewers about sexist stereotypes. This Book Riot post does the same…
Liz Wyckoff’s interview with Laura van den Berg for Tin House is a nice complement to our own. They talk about cohesion in short-story collections, faraway settings, and van den Berg’s…
In the 1980s, when it became apparent that HIV was blood-borne, China banned blood donations from outside the country—but instituted no other HIV-related tests or regulations, not even against reusing…
If your fingers aren’t too frozen to click, here’s the weekend Rumpus roundup. First, our film editor Anisse Gross reviewed Hilton Als’s new book White Girls: Each time I took it…
How did video games go from being completely gender-neutral to being the centerpiece of a male-dominated, often misogynistic subculture? Polygon’s Tracy Lien investigates in a fascinating history of the industry’s…
If all you know about Santería is that it’s a line in that one Sublime song, you should check out this interview with Caridad, a Santería priestess, over at the…
The best things on my CV—the ones I almost want to use comic sans for, just so they’ll stand out—haven’t paid me. In an essay for The Toast, Jilly Gagnon…
I was not heretofore aware feminists were disappointed in [Michelle] Obama and how she chooses to live her life. I was not aware that Obama was not an activist. Now…
Last November, journalist Leonora LaPeter Anton profiled a woman named Gretchen Molannen, who had been living for years with an almost unbearable chronic illness: persistent genital arousal disorder. The day…
When she saw him in the morning, Dan was still on the couch in front of the TV, speaking in fragments, muttering to himself, screaming obscenities, bursting into sobs. Now…